By Teric Darken (Free Prompt~Free Ebooks)
“Alright, Doc, I completed the assignment though it took me most of the week.”
“Wonderful! How’d it go?”
“Well, it wasn’t easy, that’s for sure, but I did as you told me: I let it all out and was completely honest. So, do I give the paper to you?”
“No, I’d rather you read it out loud. That way I can hear your voice… Pick up on the emotion. Please, take off your jacket and have a seat. Hot tea with lemon and honey?”
“Sure. Thanks, Doc.”
Dropping my jacket at the side of the leather office chair, I flipped to my feeble writing attempt the good doctor had assigned me. It looked rather pitiful, glaring back at me from the yellow notepad.
“Careful, now… It’s very hot. Don’t let the cup slide off the saucer.”
I grabbed the combo with both hands, taking a small sip before sitting down. “Ah, thanks, Doc. That feels good on the ol’ throat.”
“My pleasure. A little hot tea always helps me relax. So, when you feel good and ready, go ahead and share from your heart. Speak your mind… Let’s hear what you’ve written.”
After placing the tea set on the end table beside me, I gave the doc a timid stare before commencing.
“It’s okay,” he assured me. “Take your time. Voice it according to the emotions with which it was written. This isn’t a test. There is no pass or fail. This is simply about your honest sentiments and feelings.”
“O – Okay, Doc,” I stammered. “But I gotta warn ya: It’s not too pretty.”
“That’s quite alright. This isn’t about pretty. It’s about honesty. Remember, you’re not the only one who’s sat in that chair.”
I managed a meager smile. “It’s a rather pitiful poem of sorts. Is that okay?”
“That’s perfect. Take your time and let it out.”
My slow, exhaled sigh helped me relax – another simple yet effective technique the doc had shown me regarding coping. “Okay, here goes. Entitled: ‘Life’s a Bitch…’
Millionaire shooting hoops while the soldier goes to war:
Pay the price with his life – got our rights to die for
Teacher heading to the bank, cashing in her modest wage
Movie star... Limo car... Red-carpet rage
Coz life's a bitch
You can't scratch the itch
You've fallen in the ditch
Coz life's a bitch
Dealer pimping in a jag… Does the fireman sleep at night?
Kiss the wife; save a life from the strife of firelight
Politician cover up: Gotta gain another vote
Leaving you was her tune; that's all she wrote
Coz life's a bitch
You can't scratch the itch
You've fallen in the ditch
Coz life's a bitch
A baby in the darkness kisses death before the dawn
A mother without children praying hard for one
Coz life's a bitch
You can't scratch the itch
You've fallen in the ditch.”
I gingerly flipped the notepad to the front page, covering up my inner feelings. Though the silence was but a few seconds, the roar was deafening. Thankfully, the doc’s soothing voice broke through the tempestuous clouds. His gentle, understanding smile brought warm relief.
“That was actually very good. I acknowledge the sentiments and, as a side note, the poem had a nice flowing meter.”
A little embarrassed, I couldn’t help but crack a grin. “Heh, thanks, Doc.”
“So, let’s break down those words line by line. I would like to ensure that I understand them correctly. Take another look at your poem and reiterate your words to me now. Expound upon their meaning.”
“Whew, okay. Well, here goes…” I gently flipped back through the pages and, before I knew it, my mouth was moving: “It just seems a bit unfair that there are millionaires out there – sports stars, movie stars, music stars, what have you – with more money than they know what to do with, while people like soldiers, policemen and teachers – who put their life on the line and/or are making a genuine contribution to society – are struggling to make a living. I don’t understand it: The priorities seem so topsy-turvy. Seems to me the
teachers, soldiers, policemen and such shouldn’t be the ones struggling. A multi-millionaire… For memorizing some lines for a movie? Really?”
“I understand your sentiments, and you’ll get no rebuttal from me. And, as you’ve said, perhaps society’s priorities are out of line.”
“I just feel that money could be better used to support our educators and protectors, not to mention to help feed and shelter the less fortunate: Those who are truly in need.”
“I don’t disagree.”
“And it pisses me off that drug dealers, pimps and high-end prostitutes are raking in the cash while, again, civil servants such as firefighters are laying their life on the line and getting paid peanuts. And what about our politicians, with all their cover-ups and scams? From Watergate to Clinton and Lewinsky… ‘W’ and Iraq to the latest Petraeus scandal… Who can you trust? Then I look around and see those taking the life right out of their selves, whether through suicide or unwanted pregnancy, while others are praying for a miracle: deliverance from cancer or a baby to nurture. Whatever life is, it truly is a bitch.”
“I understand your sentiments and, again, I’m not disagreeing with you. Let’s talk about your personal life for a moment: Are you doing anything to help out another in need?”
“Well, as much as I can. I’m not wealthy, but I do give to a few charities.”
“And that’s wonderful, but it’s not always about money. Perhaps you’ve seen someone who simply needs some time, love and understanding… Maybe like a big brother… A mentor. Let me ask you another question: You say you’re not wealthy… Do you have a friend in life? I mean one single, tried-and-true friend?”
I paused in consideration. “My wife… and Billy, my co-worker. He’s always been there when I needed to talk.”
“Then you’re batting a thousand! So your wife is a true friend as well as your co-worker, Billy. I’d say that makes you a rich man. You’re two above most people. Maybe you’re not wealthy, but you’re distinctly rich. How many children do you have?”
“Two.”
“Do they love you?”
“With all their heart, Doc.”
“Is the feeling mutual?”
“Yes, they both own my whole heart.”
“Well, life can be a bitch at times – there’s no denying that. You struggle from day-to-day, and life doesn’t always seem fair. But a new day comes: You feel the sun on your face, and you see your children smile. That’s when life begins: When your children smile or when you help another in need. That’s what makes life
worthwhile. That’s what makes you live for another day. Those are some of the things that make life… grand.
There are those out there with all the money in the world, yet they are flat broke: destitute. Some fathers and mothers don’t know their children though they live under the same roof. Some have all the money in the world while being in debt up to their neck from overspending… Their appetite can’t be satiated due to greed.”
“I agree, Doc, wholeheartedly. There are things that make life grand for some of us. But what about all of the violence in the world: the rape, murder and wars? What the hell happened with humanity, huh? Sometimes, Doc, I just wanna yell at the top of my lungs, ‘Oh, my God! Why are you allowing these things to happen?’”
“I know what you mean. Sometimes, I want to scream, ‘Man, oh man, why are you doing these things?’”
“‘Life is what you make it…’ What do you make of that, Doc? I can’t say that I completely agree. I mean, what about the Jews in the holocaust? What about all of the abused and molested children? What about all the people burned and blown apart from wars and these damned suicide bombers? Those innocent people had no choice in the matter.”
“Agreed. And it’s an extremely sad state of affairs. ‘Life is what you make it’: ‘Made in America...’ ‘Made in China…’ ‘Made in Germany…’ ‘Made in Afghanistan…’ It’s all man-made.”
“Alright, Doc, I completed the assignment though it took me most of the week.”
“Wonderful! How’d it go?”
“Well, it wasn’t easy, that’s for sure, but I did as you told me: I let it all out and was completely honest. So, do I give the paper to you?”
“No, I’d rather you read it out loud. That way I can hear your voice… Pick up on the emotion. Please, take off your jacket and have a seat. Hot tea with lemon and honey?”
“Sure. Thanks, Doc.”
Dropping my jacket at the side of the leather office chair, I flipped to my feeble writing attempt the good doctor had assigned me. It looked rather pitiful, glaring back at me from the yellow notepad.
“Careful, now… It’s very hot. Don’t let the cup slide off the saucer.”
I grabbed the combo with both hands, taking a small sip before sitting down. “Ah, thanks, Doc. That feels good on the ol’ throat.”
“My pleasure. A little hot tea always helps me relax. So, when you feel good and ready, go ahead and share from your heart. Speak your mind… Let’s hear what you’ve written.”
After placing the tea set on the end table beside me, I gave the doc a timid stare before commencing.
“It’s okay,” he assured me. “Take your time. Voice it according to the emotions with which it was written. This isn’t a test. There is no pass or fail. This is simply about your honest sentiments and feelings.”
“O – Okay, Doc,” I stammered. “But I gotta warn ya: It’s not too pretty.”
“That’s quite alright. This isn’t about pretty. It’s about honesty. Remember, you’re not the only one who’s sat in that chair.”
I managed a meager smile. “It’s a rather pitiful poem of sorts. Is that okay?”
“That’s perfect. Take your time and let it out.”
My slow, exhaled sigh helped me relax – another simple yet effective technique the doc had shown me regarding coping. “Okay, here goes. Entitled: ‘Life’s a Bitch…’
Millionaire shooting hoops while the soldier goes to war:
Pay the price with his life – got our rights to die for
Teacher heading to the bank, cashing in her modest wage
Movie star... Limo car... Red-carpet rage
Coz life's a bitch
You can't scratch the itch
You've fallen in the ditch
Coz life's a bitch
Dealer pimping in a jag… Does the fireman sleep at night?
Kiss the wife; save a life from the strife of firelight
Politician cover up: Gotta gain another vote
Leaving you was her tune; that's all she wrote
Coz life's a bitch
You can't scratch the itch
You've fallen in the ditch
Coz life's a bitch
A baby in the darkness kisses death before the dawn
A mother without children praying hard for one
Coz life's a bitch
You can't scratch the itch
You've fallen in the ditch.”
I gingerly flipped the notepad to the front page, covering up my inner feelings. Though the silence was but a few seconds, the roar was deafening. Thankfully, the doc’s soothing voice broke through the tempestuous clouds. His gentle, understanding smile brought warm relief.
“That was actually very good. I acknowledge the sentiments and, as a side note, the poem had a nice flowing meter.”
A little embarrassed, I couldn’t help but crack a grin. “Heh, thanks, Doc.”
“So, let’s break down those words line by line. I would like to ensure that I understand them correctly. Take another look at your poem and reiterate your words to me now. Expound upon their meaning.”
“Whew, okay. Well, here goes…” I gently flipped back through the pages and, before I knew it, my mouth was moving: “It just seems a bit unfair that there are millionaires out there – sports stars, movie stars, music stars, what have you – with more money than they know what to do with, while people like soldiers, policemen and teachers – who put their life on the line and/or are making a genuine contribution to society – are struggling to make a living. I don’t understand it: The priorities seem so topsy-turvy. Seems to me the
teachers, soldiers, policemen and such shouldn’t be the ones struggling. A multi-millionaire… For memorizing some lines for a movie? Really?”
“I understand your sentiments, and you’ll get no rebuttal from me. And, as you’ve said, perhaps society’s priorities are out of line.”
“I just feel that money could be better used to support our educators and protectors, not to mention to help feed and shelter the less fortunate: Those who are truly in need.”
“I don’t disagree.”
“And it pisses me off that drug dealers, pimps and high-end prostitutes are raking in the cash while, again, civil servants such as firefighters are laying their life on the line and getting paid peanuts. And what about our politicians, with all their cover-ups and scams? From Watergate to Clinton and Lewinsky… ‘W’ and Iraq to the latest Petraeus scandal… Who can you trust? Then I look around and see those taking the life right out of their selves, whether through suicide or unwanted pregnancy, while others are praying for a miracle: deliverance from cancer or a baby to nurture. Whatever life is, it truly is a bitch.”
“I understand your sentiments and, again, I’m not disagreeing with you. Let’s talk about your personal life for a moment: Are you doing anything to help out another in need?”
“Well, as much as I can. I’m not wealthy, but I do give to a few charities.”
“And that’s wonderful, but it’s not always about money. Perhaps you’ve seen someone who simply needs some time, love and understanding… Maybe like a big brother… A mentor. Let me ask you another question: You say you’re not wealthy… Do you have a friend in life? I mean one single, tried-and-true friend?”
I paused in consideration. “My wife… and Billy, my co-worker. He’s always been there when I needed to talk.”
“Then you’re batting a thousand! So your wife is a true friend as well as your co-worker, Billy. I’d say that makes you a rich man. You’re two above most people. Maybe you’re not wealthy, but you’re distinctly rich. How many children do you have?”
“Two.”
“Do they love you?”
“With all their heart, Doc.”
“Is the feeling mutual?”
“Yes, they both own my whole heart.”
“Well, life can be a bitch at times – there’s no denying that. You struggle from day-to-day, and life doesn’t always seem fair. But a new day comes: You feel the sun on your face, and you see your children smile. That’s when life begins: When your children smile or when you help another in need. That’s what makes life
worthwhile. That’s what makes you live for another day. Those are some of the things that make life… grand.
There are those out there with all the money in the world, yet they are flat broke: destitute. Some fathers and mothers don’t know their children though they live under the same roof. Some have all the money in the world while being in debt up to their neck from overspending… Their appetite can’t be satiated due to greed.”
“I agree, Doc, wholeheartedly. There are things that make life grand for some of us. But what about all of the violence in the world: the rape, murder and wars? What the hell happened with humanity, huh? Sometimes, Doc, I just wanna yell at the top of my lungs, ‘Oh, my God! Why are you allowing these things to happen?’”
“I know what you mean. Sometimes, I want to scream, ‘Man, oh man, why are you doing these things?’”
“‘Life is what you make it…’ What do you make of that, Doc? I can’t say that I completely agree. I mean, what about the Jews in the holocaust? What about all of the abused and molested children? What about all the people burned and blown apart from wars and these damned suicide bombers? Those innocent people had no choice in the matter.”
“Agreed. And it’s an extremely sad state of affairs. ‘Life is what you make it’: ‘Made in America...’ ‘Made in China…’ ‘Made in Germany…’ ‘Made in Afghanistan…’ It’s all man-made.”